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“Yes,” he replied. “What I would give to have that opportunity again.”
A wave of melancholy washed over him then, for he could not even say he’d loved and lost. Only lost.
Struck with cold awareness, he retreated from Willow’s space, leaving her to clutch onto the book before it fell at her feet.
“Speaking of burning,” he said soberly. “You better check on those cookies.”
The darn purple box mocked Willow for the third time in as many days. To be fair, it wasn’t the purple box itself, or even the discount Hobby Lobby crystal ball inside. It was her unalive roommate who was just moving things around now just to aggravate her.
After the encounter at the bookshelf, she couldn’t maintain eye contact with Montgomery the rest of the day. That blasted bookcase caused her body to burn up just looking at it. She never did put that book back where he’d pulled it from the shelf. She’d clutched it to her chest while he left her standing there like a ninny.
Then, to get fresh air, she took her bike out for a spin around town. It wasn’t until she’d gotten a few strange looks that she realized she’d been riding all over the place withIce Planet Barbarianson full display in her bicycle basket.
She was too embarrassed to bring it back into the shop.
And even after the heated argument (and even more heated… whatever that was), the irksome ghost was still messing with her.
Just this morning, she couldn’t find her shoes. When she pressed Montgomery about it, he flippantly pointed toward the storeroom, where Willow found the shoes in a box, along with a few other items she’d lost, like a hair claw and a remote control.
Then there was the pile of mail. After looking everywhere for it, she discovered the envelopes and papers filed away in several folders, each one with corresponding labels such as‘bills’and‘banking’etc. She had to admit the filing system made sense… for someone obsessive compulsive like Montgomery.
The purple box, however, did not make sense.
She certainly hadn’t moved it, and since she hid it away after the first time she’d found it on top of a display table, she knew it wasn’t a customer mindlessly picking it up and laying it down somewhere else.
“Dale?” she called across the shop. “Did you put this here?”
Willow was pleased with Dale’s work so far. He caught on quickly, and really was good at upselling. Yeah, he was a little quirky, but so was she in her own way. It was a good fit, having him there.
He wandered over to Willow from behind the cash register slipping his man purse across his chest since it was almost quitting time. Apparently he had a hot date (his words), and spent the last five minutes dousing himself with cologne.
“Nope,” he said, readjusting his sweater underneath the strap of his bag. “I wouldn’t put that out. I have an aversion to purple.”
“Hmmm, okay. May I ask why you don’t like purple?”
“It just makes me very uncomfortable. Always has. You can ask Mother if you ever come to visit.”
“I’ll make a point of it,” she replied.
Dale made his way to the front door, paused mid-stride, and pivoted around with his index finger up.
“I almost forgot. A package came for you while you were in the back. I put it behind the cash register.”
“Thanks, Dale. Have a good night.”
No sooner was he out the door, did Montgomery appear from wherever he was the past few hours. Sulking around creepily, no doubt.
“I thought he’d never leave,” he said, taking it upon himself to turn all the locks.
“He left right on time,” Willow said, throwing Montgomery a black look as she put the purple velvet box in a cabinet. “What do you care, anyway? You come and go as you please, no matter how many people are here.”
“That is true. But you refuse to acknowledge me, and if I have something to say to you, I have to wait until the shop is closed.”
Willow blew an exasperated sigh and glowered at him.
“Fine. What was so important you couldn’t wait to say to me?”
“I’m going to need you to orderThe Silmarillion. I’m almost done withReturn of the King, and—”
